It is morning. I’m awake. I’m feeling sort of cross and irritable, and there’s no obvious reason for any of that. I sip my coffee and work on getting past it. Mostly just sitting here, at my desk, thinking thoughts, not even writing, just sitting here, quietly. It’s enough, at least for now, and nothing about just sitting here quietly makes me more irritated or cross, so… yeah. Good enough.

I take a deep breath, and exhale, and relax. I do that a handful of times. I feel myself begin to relax – notice that happening, and find myself cross all over again. Dumb. I begin again. It is what it is, right? I shrug it off, and give myself a do-over. The room feels peculiarly warm. Is it me? My Traveling Partner woke early, and complained of feeling ill… Am I coming down with something or other, too? Another breath. Another slow relaxed exhalation. Another beginning.

It is, aside from my crossness, a lovely morning. I slept well, and even slept through the night (that’s been rare since we moved in here, I usually get up at least once during the night, however briefly). My coffee is good. The moon was hanging overhead, above the deck, when I went outside for some air, first thing, waiting for water to be hot enough to make coffee. In all respects, a very pleasant morning.

…So what’s with my moody bullshit?? (Just a human being human, I guess…)

I promise myself a measure of gentleness and kindness today – I deserve that from me. I remind myself to be considerate and patient with the world – everyone involved in this adventure called life is wholly human, themselves. My Traveling Partner sticks his head in the studio doorway, then follows with his whole self. His presence makes me smile in spite of feeling out of sorts, generally. He walks away after a few moments of conversation about ants, packages, and hot tub water quality. I’m still smiling. Maybe it’ll be a good day, in spite of waking up grumpy? I point out to myself how often (and how easily) an emotional state is confused for being “reality” – when really it’s just a feeling. Nothing much to do with “reality” in any practical way, until we connect those dots and insist on it for ourselves. Our emotions are their own thing, their own experience, quite separate from the practical details of what is going on with and around us, and sometimes not rooted in some obvious cause, at all.

I shrug off being cross, again. I notice how pleasant the air conditioning feels. I hear my partners voice from the other room, and notice the joy and comfort I find in the sound of it. I pay attention to the way the changes in my desk, studio, and workstation arrangements support better posture, and result in less day-to-day pain. I make room to be aware, very specifically, that I am in less pain this morning that I might “ordinarily” be in. I even pause to notice (and reject) the use of the word “ordinary” to describe the frequency of my pain; the words we use matter, and language is often how we “encode” our perceptions of “reality” in our thinking. I’m in less pain this morning. I make a point to be aware of that, and avoid making it a bigger deal at all.  I sip my coffee and notice the feeling of contentment that gives me. I make a point to enjoy that feeling, and to be aware of it.

I breathe, exhale, relax – and begin again. Sometimes that’s enough. 🙂